Little Vampire Boy
by rory lennon
Summary: starrison. vampire au. still not the actual movie across the universe


"G-God—please, don' kill me! 'M i-innocent, I swear!"

A young, dark haired boy's terrified yelp echoed through the night. Another, older man, stared, confused. What was he talking about?

"I-I know you—Th' B-Blue Eyed Killer. C-Cruel as sh-shite, y-you are," the young vampire stuttered. The aforementioned 'Killer' relaxed his arm and hand—the one he was afraid of, no doubt, as there was a machete in it. The vampire's mouth was clean, and his eyes weren't red, just brown. An alluring shade of brown, yes, but not red. The hunter could still tell he was a vampire, of course—the fangs gave it away. But, he at least seemed innocent.

"'M not gonna hurt ya," He soothed, sheathing his weapon and taking a slow step towards the frightened vampire. Looking at him, he realized he was just a boy, really. The vampire recoiled back against the wall, understandably so if he was so afraid.

"Wha's yer name?" Our blue-eyed protagonist prompted.

The vampire stared at him for a few moments, before nervously stuttering, "G-George."

"'M Ritchie." He smiled crookedly—finally, they were getting somewhere!

George continued to stare at him silently, before asking, "S-So, how're ya gonna do it?"

"Wha'?"

"K-Kill me, I mean," he went on. "Is it gonna be th' standard holy water dunk and beheadin', o-or 'm I special enough t-ta be left ta r-rot in th' sun?"

Now, it was Ritchie's turn to stare forward, horrified. "I—I would never. Tha's th' mos' inhumane thing 've ever heard of! Besides, 'm not gonna kill ya anyways. Yer innocent."

Silence stretched on, allowing Ritchie to take in his surroundings. The night was as dark as George's eyes. As beautiful, too, Ritchie noted. In a mild daze through the quiet, blue eyes travelled slowly over the boy, his cheek bones standing out on his long face. His lips were red and the lower one especially plump. Kissable, even… Ritchie was quickly brought out of this trance as George spoke.

"How would you know?" his voice was surprisingly stable, and cold like the cobbles underfoot. "Could've killed a hundred people bef're you came."

Ritchie shook his head, curly quaffed hair swaying weakly as its brylcreem cage became undone with time. "No, yer not like tha'. I know it."

Another silence stretched, giving Ritchie another chance to admire George's features. Unknown to him, George was doing the same. His own black eyes trailed over Ritchie's face, admiring the strange place where his eyebrow got thin because of a scar, his pillowy pink lips, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes, they were gorgeous. The brightest blue George had ever seen. They made him happy just looking at them, sparkling even though it was the dead of night.

Finally, he responded, "I guess yer right. 'M too much of a wimp ta kill anyone. At least the hospital doesn't put too much stock in their O+ blood."

"So tha's where tha's been goin'…" Ritchie mused, now completely relaxed. He tried walking to George, and was happily surprised when he allowed it and even didn't stir when Ritchie sat next to him. They sat in silence (which seemed to be a common theme here), though it wasn't awkward—only companionable. The two seemed to just… click.

They sat shoulder to shoulder until George commented into the brisk air, "You were pretty relaxed before, but yer heartbeat's picked back up." He flicked his eyes to side-eye Ritchie, before continuing, "Somethin' wrong?"

"Uh—," Ritchie cut himself off before he could continue. His heartbeat had picked back up, and for good reason. He wanted to ask George a question, but it was a rather… sensitive one. It could either easily make or terribly break the fragile friendship he'd acquired with George. Ritchie's work was done here, but he didn't want to leave the little vampire boy behind, so he was very much considering asking him the oh-so delicate inquiry.

"Ritchie," George said again, nudging him with his knee, "Spit it out, please."

Still, the blue eyed hunter stayed silent, before taking a breath, gathering his courage, and asking, "Would ya like ta travel with me?" He looked directly at George's pale, frozen profile, as he couldn't catch his eyes. The eyes he could not see had doubt flickering through them, if only for the idea that someone he was already so fond of would risk being seen with him at all, never mind travelling with. Though, that was not what should have been on his mind…

Now, as you're reading this, you'd probably think that this question doesn't mean much—a little odd of a stranger to a stranger, yes, but not much other than that. However, vampires have a way of… looking at things. Who knows what would happen if another vampire saw George with a human. Was he there willingly? Was he captured? Danger for both parties, basically.

Said little vampire boy, however, was still not thinking of these things. Instead, he was looking happily into Ritchie's bright blue eyes, smiling wide enough for his little fangs to poke over his lower lip. George leaned over to touch shoulders with Ritchie, and replied, "I'd love to."


End file.
